


A collection of questionable writing

by Gigs



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1460860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigs/pseuds/Gigs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of the ask box drabbles I recieved over on my tumblr ahteamloveandstuff</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I heard you wanted short prompts so how about... a freewood au where Ryan is a librarian that leaves little notes inside the books that Gavin checks out? - you-have-a-winter-heart

     “You don’t think you’re taking ‘no talking in the library’ a little too seriously?” Lindsay asks as Ryan surreptitiously watches Gavin staring at the shelves. He glances at her over his glasses giving her a look that’s both intimidating yet also a bit sexy, it’s a skill all librarians have.

     “I don’t think Miss I’m going to pretend to break my computer once a week so I can talk to the cute ginger I.T. guy has room to talk” he replies reaching for a pen ready for whatever Gavin had picked up this week.

     He’d just thought the other man was cute at first, cute with eclectic reading tastes, varying from books on cinematography, various sciences and then the odd fantasy novel. One of his choices had been a Robert Jordan and Ryan had uncapped his pen and scrawled “honestly don’t bother, full of disappointing protagonists save yourself the hassle and go straight to Sanderson” and stuck the post-it on the inside cover while Gavin had wandered off to grab something else.

     The next week Ryan had been re-organising the chick-lit section and considering slipping some feminist theory books in there when he overheard Gavin, a distinctly British voice above the American rumble he was used to, asking Lindsay if she knew of a Sanderson who wrote fantasy.

     He’d grinned to himself for the rest of the day.

    A copy of Steelheart had been placed by tan hands on the counter and he had looked up to see the young man scurrying off to fetch the bag he’d left on a table. While the first choice made his heart flutter in an irritatingly teenage manner the second choice made him wince. Quick as a flash Ryan had scribbled “Holly Black is superior in every way and far better for young readers” and slid it into whichever Cassandra Clare book Gavin had thought to include. He stuck it to the first page, no need for anyone to suffer that.

     And so it had gone on for a few months now. Not just fantasy suggestions, Gavin picked up a wide range of youth literature, science and history books and everything Ryan knew at least a little about he made sure to sneak in a note suggesting something similar or was often the case in the first few weeks of Gavin’s visits something better.

     He’s brought back to the present by the approach of the handsome young man he’d been thinking about and there’s something different about him. He’s smiling which isn’t new, they always exchange a few words as Ryan scans his items and Gavin invariably forgets something back at his station and has to run get it.

    What’s new is the fact that he is empty-handed. He stops at Ryan’s desk and just leans on it slightly looking at Ryan speculatively.

     “…did you need a new library card?” Ryan asks more than a little confused.

     “I was wondering if you had any book suggestions.” Gavin replies easily, “I mean I’ve been reading everything you’ve been suggesting for months now and I figured it’d be easier going straight to the source than waiting to get home to learn what a terrible mistake I’ve made.”

     Heat rushes to Ryan’s face, this is a moment, a new moment and he doesn’t know what to do. “When did you figure out it was me?” he asks slowly, “I thought I was being very sneaky about it”

     Gavin shrugs, “the notes always appear when I check out a book, you know…when I’m grabbing the stuff I’ve forgotten,” he smiled slightly wider then, “I might…I might have been forgetting stuff just to give you time to do it. I like it.”

     “It could’ve been Lindsay though,” Ryan continues quashing any of the tentative flourishing of hopeful thought his brain started to muster, “I mean you actually talk to her!”

     Gavin goggles at him, “Lindsay? Michael would end me if I so much as thought about it.” Then he blushes, “and besides I knew it wasn’t her handwriting. I saw you writing a description once and remembered it” he crosses his arms and rocks on the balls of his feet while Ryan feels himself smile.

     “Lindsay’ll be thrilled,” he responds warmly, “she’s been running out of things to pretend not to know about computers.” Gavin laughs softly and for a moment they just look at each other smiling.

     “So…” They both start and grin again. Ryan extends his hand in an after you gesture and Gavin takes it his voice playful. “So…is this where we snog in the stacks?”

     “Have you been borrowing romance novels when I’m not here?” Ryan laughs although the proposition is thrilling and a wonderful confirmation of his hopeful thoughts. “This is where I ask you for coffee, snogging in the stacks is off limits until the third date.”

     There is a squeak from behind him and they turn to see Lindsay clutching an Atlas to her chest as she eavesdrops, a harassed looking student awkwardly hovering for her to resume helping him. Gavin and Ryan immediately straighten up, both having been leaning closer and closer as the conversation had gone on. She’s flustered for a moment and then straightens up to say very calmly, “Ryan you should know better, I have to insist that you two go outside for your conversation,” she points imperiously to the Silence posters and shoots Ryan a look before at last helping out the hapless student.

     “Seems rude to not listen to her really,” Gavin says in a conspirators tone, “and don’t you have a break coming up?”

     “You know my schedule?” Ryan asks equally hushed. Gavin coughs and smiles sheepishly. Making a mental note to buy Lindsay something cat-themed or highly alcoholic Ryan scrambles to grab his stuff in the most casual way possible.

     “So where do you want to go?” He asks as they walk out of the library together,

     Gavin bumps into him with the grin that hasn’t faded since they started talking, “oh I don’t know Ryan, I was waiting for you to suggest something”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Im really sorry if you already got my request. I sent it a while ago but my internet has been weird so Im not sure. If you already got this request, youre amazing and please ignore this. I wanted to request more of dat headache fic like thing you write recently- if you can. Having a lot of trouble with my own headaches and it would really help. I know youre busy so you dont have to if you dont want. thank you though for being a wonderful writer. Your material is goregous - Anonymous 
> 
> [I am overwhelmed by how lovely this message is and I’m sorry but the other one might’ve gotten eaten but in that case here is my offering and I honestly hope that you feel better soon. My own experience with migraines is horrific as they verge on cluster headaches (Gavin here suffers essentially migraines) so I know how you feel. I really do hope this helps and thank you so much you are too kind]

Coffee had been a mistake.

Gavin realised he’d overdone the stimulation when a wave of nausea rushed up from the pit of his stomach where the coffee sat uncomfortably. The computer screen swam colours and sound waves merging and then there came the excruciating stabbing pain behind his eyes.

     “Oh please no,” he murmured screwing his eyes shut as if cutting off his vision would halt the onslaught of pain. Naturally it didn’t help and he clutched at his desk as the first hot wave spiked behind both eyes. The blackness that was his vision flashed red and he swore silently.

It wasn’t the slow bubbling of pain he sometimes gets, there were no mercy ripples that told him to get the fuck away from people, light, sound and camp in the darkness with bottles of water and just wait it out.

It was a tidal wave.

It turned typing to a thousand drills in his ears, background chatter and laughter into hot needles at his temples that go deeper as the minutes pass.

Stumble-running he made his way to the bathroom, squinting against the bright light of what on any other day would be glorious Austin sunshine but now was unforgiving in its heightening of the heat in his head.

He slammed the door behind him not even trying to find the light. Gavin fell to his knees in the darkness, dry-heaving into the bowl. His breath turned to dry sobs as he tried to level his breathing, pressing his forehead to the cold ceramic of the sink.

Time became a secondary notion, measured vaguely in breaths, pain waves and attempting to throw up nothing.

He suffered from migraines essentially but sometimes they lasted days. Usually he could tell the severity of them but this one? This could be over in a matter of hours or leave him bedridden for nearly a week.

     Through the fog Gavin heard a knock at the door and Ryan’s voice asked, “Gavin…are you ok?”

No one should ever see him like this. It’s embarrassing. They can’t help, they just hover and fetch him endless glasses of water and their worry is almost an added weight because then he feels like a burden.

     But his traitorous mouth said “no…I…I can’t move.”

There was a secondary question but that was lost as Gavin had to dry heave again, bringing tears to his eyes as his sides ached from the repeated notion and his brain screamed at him for even trying to alleviate the pain.

There was a sound that was a mix between a scrape and a thud following by light flooding the room. Gavin felt a hand on his shoulder as Ryan knelt beside him. In a brief moment of clarity he realised Ryan must have broken the lock on the door to get to him.

Ryan opened his mouth and Gavin managed to say, “migraine…it…they usually aren’t this bad but…” he was cut off by his own vocal chords turning his strained words into a groan. Everything about his body betrayed him with these headaches. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t function, he could only lie still hoping they’d pass as his thoughts ran circles around a burning cerebral track.

     “I’m taking you home.” Ryan said quietly. “Geoff’s in a meeting for hours, you need to be home.” Gavin had no energy to protest other than mentally but as Ryan wasn’t a mind reader he had no way of knowing. In this case anyway, Gavin doubted he’d have listened to any assertion of Gavin being fine. He found him clutching a toilet bowl whimpering in pain, there’s no spin doctor in the world that could distract from that truth.

Home.

Home was good.

Home he could be in the dark and away from people. Away from the noise and uncontrollable world and free to ride this out in its horrible turns and swells.

He left Ryan to make his excuses, physically incapable of doing anything besides walk to the car.

     “Close your eyes if you need to, I can guide you” Ryan said, as they went out into the light leaving a worried Kara peering after them. Gavin let his eyes slide shut against the harshness of the sun squeezing Ryan’s arm in thanks.

He barely registered the car starting, only noticing briefly that Ryan had picked up his bag when he’d gone to relay the reasons for Gavin’s absence. The heat of the engine was sickening and he was terrified that he was going to have to pay for throwing up in Ryan’s car the first time he was allowed in it. Ryan quashed his worries as his hand flew to the temperature console,

     “Hot or cold?” he asked his voice that same steady it had dropped to the moment he’d seen Gavin near collapsed on the bathroom floor.

     “Cold” he replied pressing himself back into the car seat, hoping the push would force the pain from his aching head into the fabric.

The stale air in the car circulated as they drove and Gavin gave a sigh as the chill hit him. Thank fuck for modern cars and their fan systems.

They don’t talk as they drive for which Gavin is thankful; he didn’t want to risk it even with the cool air easing things. The sound of the fan however along with the fumes of the car was an unavoidable fact of being taken home.

It passes quickly.

Maybe it doesn’t.

He can’t tell as the pain spiked again as they went round a roundabout, the swaying of the care and brief forced motion made his head feel like his brain swam with the lean. The moment made him feel disoriented and as he crashed back into himself he groaned involuntarily. Ryan shot him a worried look and opened his mouth then shut is as Gavin’s groan had clearly answered his unasked question.

Normally having to get home and to his room would be an agony he’d just be counting the seconds left till he forgot the experience, leaning up against walls and holding onto furniture to not just drop to the hard floor. Ryan was careful but pragmatic and Gavin found himself inside the house and propped up against the wall of the hallway.

He had a vague notion of Ryan moving about his house with a rushed ease and the room growing dimmer as blinds were carefully drawn and lights turned out.

He walked forward, meaning to go his bedroom and lose himself in a cocoon of duvets and darkness but the world shifted about him, gone blurry in torment.

Strong arms caught him and he was suddenly in the air and muttering sorry over and over into Ryan’s chest as the other man gently laid him on the sofa. The sensation of a chuckle rumbling through Ryan’s chest against his forehead was oddly soothing.

     “You have nothing to apologise for,” Ryan told him in a voice that a less pain-racked person might register as tender. Then he was gone again.

Gavin shifted on the sofa, stretching out to elevate his feet and let his head rest on the low arm. The sound of Ryan setting a bottle of water and bucket next to him made him open his eyes for the first time in what felt like ages. He took in the sight of the man kneeling next to where he lay, wringing out a flannel. Ryan started when he saw Gavin looking at him.

     “The bucket’s for if you feel ill, the water is obvious” he explained his voice measured but not patronising. “The flannel is for your eyes to disperse heat. It’s a pseudo-science but you respond better to cold than heat right?”

     Gavin licked his lips and spoke instead of nodding his head. Nodding was an activity that would not be available to him for a good few hours yet. “Yeah…yeah that’s right. Heat makes me want to vom, cold is…cold is anchoring.”

He closed his eyes as Ryan laid the folded sodden flannel across his eyes. It was instantaneously better. Not much but it was something. The cold filtered into his skin and he let out a sigh. It brought him back to where he was. He was home. He was safe to ride out the headaches for as long as they lasted.

The task of getting home had been enough to focus on for a time. That task now completed the small wall he’d been using to hold back the worst of the pain broke and his head flooded with agony.

It was hot, hotter than the flannel across his eyes and he struggled to keep his breathing steady as his brain began to throb and pulse.

     “Ryan…” he choked although he didn’t have any idea what the other man could do for him right then.

The build up was too much, he felt like his brain was going to explode.

Then came the most tender of touches to his temples. Gavin stiffened as the icy brush stayed, not pushing just touching. It formed a hold on his pain, steadying him inside his mind.

     “Does it help?” Ryan’s voice asked a hushed lifeline through the torrent of agony.

Gavin gasped a yes and the merciful coldness stayed bracketing him.

Then Ryan began to press ever so slightly with his fingertips.

He thought he could hear the hiss of alleviating pressure as Ryan’s fingers delicately manipulated the skin and muscles of his head.

Ryan paused in his ministrations for a moment one hand leaving their post and Gavin almost screamed,

     “Don’t stop,” he whispered instead. Ryan’s remaining hand fluttered against his face, absentmindedly stroking, reassuring.

     “I’m just getting more ice” Ryan murmured back. “You know my fingers don’t naturally stay this temperature.”

    The urge to smile hurt so Gavin huffed in amusement instead. “I wasn’t about to question your freaky body temperature. Feels nice.” He says.

Ryan made one of his pleased non-committal sounds and resumed his massaging of Gavin’s temples.

His fingers were freshly chilled and damp and Gavin let out an almighty sigh as the blissful feeling combated the twisting agony inside his head.

It was too much and just right.

    “I’m so sorry” he gasped again and at first Ryan shushed him but then Gavin kept whispering it and he just let him speak.

The tenderness of Ryan’s touch and the mix of cold against the inferno of his brain was agonising in turns of sweet and awful. Time slipped through his senses as Ryan shifted to use his nails lightly on Gavin’s hot scalp as an alternative. The drag of fingertips felt heavenly.

Tears gathered in his eyes and soaked into the flannel across his eyes as they existed in silence. It wasn’t comfortable or easy as Gavin was in agony but it was…tolerable.

The first tears seemed to be a dam break and he began to tremble as his eyes leaked, the sensation felt like the pain was finding any escape from the soothing of Ryan’s fingertips and Gavin lost himself in a the slow release of pressure from his head.

The only sign Ryan gave as noticing was the soft noise he made in his throat.

It was torrid ecstasy.

It was a tactile labyrinth where the walls were in turn raging fire and quenching water.

Every part of him ached and he found himself slipping into oblivion of pain and pleasure.

* * *

He swam into consciousness again some later stirring with a groan. Immediately there was the brush of Ryan’s fingers against his forehead again, feeling his temperature and reassuring him of his presence.

He hummed as Ryan began again to rub his temples.

     “What time it it?” he asked suddenly worried. The room was considerably darker but the sun still clung to the quest of throwing light at his windows.

     “A little after 5” Ryan replied. Gavin began to move but immediately regretted it. The flash was instant and petrifying.

     “I’m so sorry Ryan” he croaked when he could speak again a few minutes later. Lethargy had set into his bones, preferable to being rendered immobile through pain to be sure but now he was sluggish from two forces, pain and fatigue. The brief attempt at moving had sapped anything he’d regained and his headache while it had receded; it still throbbed menacingly hot and painful.

     “Never apologise for things beyond your control,” Ryan said firmly. Gavin almost apologised again but listened instead, letting the words wash over him. He tried again to talk, this time to ask how Ryan knew what to do but it turned into a yawn. He was vaguely aware of Ryan laughing softly and urging him to get to sleep. There was a heat in his chest and a lump in his throat unrelated to the dimmed hammering inside his head. Such things could be questioned later; the moment he was in was too strangely intoxicating to think outside of. It was all a blissful fade as Ryan’s voice and stroking blanketed the pain that had impaired him all afternoon.

     “Thank you” he said through the haze he drifted in. Ryan’s reply was obscured by him sinking further into the miasma of touch and relief and finally into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> freewood titanic au - anonymous
> 
> This is where the "and up" part of the rating system starts. I'd advise you stop at the line break to avoid sadness

     “You two shouldn’t be down here!” The call from the foreman made Ryan grab Gavin’s hand and sent them racing through a world of steam clouds and pipes. They jumped and dove through the ship’s underbelly away from people who might notice they shouldn’t be together. Aristocratic British men betrothed to heiresses aren’t meant to run around with American artists perpetually sporting two-day stubble.

     They paused for a moment behind a tank of God knows what and Ryan pointed out that the white of Gavin’s shirt was long since ruined. It was a mess of beer stains from heavy footed dancers, dirt from the machinery they’d brushed past and charcoal from Ryan’s fingers where they’d failed not to touch Gavin. The man in question grinned as he inspected the once immaculate dress shirt.

     “Oh what a shame it’s the one from my dear betrothed,” he said, delighted at the state of disrepair it was in. Ryan laughed,

     “That is a pity,” he agreed and he pressed Gavin up against the wall of the ship to kiss him deeply, fisting his hands in the material. When they’d first kissed, back in Gavin’s luxury cabin, Ryan on his knees to get a closer look at how the light fell across Gavin’s face to recreate it on canvas, Gavin had been nervous, now however he was temptation itself. He rolled against Ryan and licked into his mouth with a sigh. A sound that might’ve been a footstep made them pull back; hovering until it was clear whoever it was wasn’t coming closer.

     Gavin glanced down at where his shirt front was in further disarray, “Ryan you’ve left your mark all over me”

     “Not quite all over you,” Ryan replied his eyes inexorably drawn to Gavin’s kiss red mouth and passionate eyes. He coughed as Gavin’s eyes flew to meet his in a heady gaze and opened his mouth to speak again but Gavin silenced him by taking his hand.

     “My turn to show you something for once,” he said quietly, mouth turned up in a funny smile that flirted with coquettish and danced around nervous. Ryan let himself be led, occasionally pulling Gavin into gaps in the machines to avoid being seen but also to kiss him some more. The latter was dizzyingly thrilling and also gave him an erection that makes walking casually difficult. However it did have the delightful effect of making Gavin gasp when he brushed against it. All Gavin’s high class lessons on decorum and restraint could not hide the hunger on his face when he’d felt Ryan through his britches.

     They reached their destination quickly, the holding bay, devoid of life apart from a snoozing guard whom they easily sneaked past. They weaved wordlessly in and out of the various possessions and stacks of luggage until they reached it. The motor car Ryan had whistled in awe at as it drove Gavin and his betrothed’s family up to the ship. Gavin popped the door and slid into the backseat beckoning Ryan to follow suit.

     As soon as he did and the door clicked shut behind him Gavin surged to meet him.

     Mindful of Gavin’s lack of experience with men Ryan was prepared for proceedings to be called to a halt but the “I can’t do this” but the memory of propriety and societal duty never came. Gavin gave every inch of himself to Ryan. While his movements were at times skittish he helped divulge them of all clothes, only breaking kisses to experimentally plant his lips elsewhere. The noises he coaxed from Gavin with gentle touches were incredible, the sigh that burst from his lips as Ryan crooked his fingers just so inside him would ring in Ryan’s ears for the rest of his days. The way his body moved was sinful, trembling and arching off of the seat shamelessly.

     Ryan settled in between Gavin’s legs to press their bodies together and kiss him while deciding how best to proceed. The direction was steered very much by Gavin who wrapped his legs around Ryan’s hips and reached down between them to grasp at his erection. It had hardly flagged since that earlier kiss and he sagged against Gavin as his hand worked the shaft.

     “Are you sure?” Ryan asked his voice thick with reverence at the sight and joy of Gavin stretched below him like this. Gavin swallowed but smiled and leaned up to press a kiss to Ryan’s lips.

     “Yes you idiot,” he replied grinding upwards lazily, his words drip with want and his expression has Ryan thanking the stars he was good enough at poker to win himself a place on board this ship to meet this man.

     Ryan let out a breath and slowly, so slowly entered him, wary of any changes in Gavin’s features, ready to stop at sign of displeasure. Gavin’s fingers flexed on his arms and his brow furrowed but he used his heels to encourage Ryan’s progress. The noise he gave when Ryan bottomed out was something Ryan wanted to hear for the rest of his life, a low contented sigh. As he adjusted to having Ryan inside him Gavin gave little tentative thrusts and rolls off his hips, out of curiosity and enjoyment of the sensation. Ryan huffed a laugh at the rapt attention on Gavin’s face that in turn flickered to discomfort and then rapture as he found a pleasing angle. He gasped at the point and urged Ryan to move with his legs and words.

     Ryan did what he was told.

     The car rocked on its wheels as they made love. Their bodies mimicked the waves they rode on as they rolled into and against each other again and again. The air inside the car was thick with sound and heat, Gavin moaned against Ryan’s ear as he dropped a kiss to Gavin’s neck, forehead pressed against the leather as he fucked Gavin into the seat. It took that moment to bring him back into himself for a moment, and Ryan couldn’t quite believe it. The one time in his life he was probably going to be in one of these motor cars and he was making love to its owner’s darling son on the backseat.

    For all there was ferocity there was tenderness too. As Gavin threw up a hand to brace himself against the steamed up window Ryan murmured an “I love you” into the skin covering Gavin’s collarbone that he’d been marking. Perhaps Ryan was the one who needed to brace himself against something as the next thing he could register was Gavin yanking his head up to kiss his own declaration into Ryan’s lips. He said it again, nervously and tremulously as Ryan slowed their movements to a deep and heady roll, their eyes locked in an overpoweringly intimate embrace. They said it in unison as they came. It was preceded and intermingled with curses and prayers but it rang through in ecstasy.

     They said it again as they were pressed heartbeat to heartbeat with no room for anything other than one another, breathing in the aftermath.

* * *

     They say it the last time as Gavin lets Ryan slip beneath the waters, too cold to cry and only his memories left to keep him warm.


	4. Let's act out that one Britney Spears song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is Lindsay’s slave for an hour/day/set amount of time. If it could involve consensual mind control as a kink that’d be great - anon who later revealed themself but I can't remember their url right now

     Pushing his curls up with one hand Lindsay made the neural link with a careful kiss to Michael’s forehead. It took barely any of her concentration, her mind used to the gift but Michael shuddered as heat pooled at the point of contact and then dripped like honey into his consciousness.

     “How is it?” she asked. Michael shrugged and shook himself, turning his head this way and that gingerly. “It won’t break if you move you know”

     “Yeah I know,” he replied still moving with care. “It feels all…gooey and warm, like someone’s steering my brain.”

     Lindsay laughed delightedly as her fiancé’s caution. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

     “I’m ready” he replied promptly the words spilling out of his mouth with ease. He blinked at her in surprise and opened his mouth to ask,

     “I said ‘when,’” Lindsay cut in sensing his confusion, “If I’d just said ‘tell me you’re ready’ your response would’ve been the same but you did just tell me the truth, it’s down to the wording.”

     “That’s fucking…ok that’s cool.” Michael said thinking about it, his brow furrowed. Lindsay traced the crinkles in his face it made as he thought and he relaxed into a smile at her touch.

     “I’ll remove it if you don’t want to do it,” she said slowly although her interest in using her power during sex had been growing since they began this. Mind-control powers or not there was no way she was doing anything Michael wasn’t up for. “We can bang normally,”

     He shook his head face determined, “I want to do this, for me and you, it’ll be interesting and fuck…if it doesn’t work then we don’t do it again.” He smiled as he moved in to kiss her hands roaming her naked body with well-practiced but nonetheless adventurous strokes. Lindsay sighed as his fingers stroked her sex, the thrumming between her legs and in the neural connection increasing.

     She watched Michael’s mouth go slack as he realised what else the neural link brought to sex. The tendrils of pleasure crept across the connection and brought a redness to his cheeks. He looked beautiful.

     “Oh my god” he whispered as she bucked against his hand with a soft moan. “This is…wow…I am good at this!”

     She hit him playfully, both of them giggling. Michael withdrew his hand experimentally eyes searching her face as the sensations they’d been sharing flickered out.

     “Well first…” Lindsay said reclining on their bed. “You could eat me out,” Michael immediately moved but stopped the moment she spoke again, “Wait!” his movements were only a little staccato, he was unused to the immediate nature of the orders given with the link but so used to listening to her during sex that he complied without prompting. “…wait!” She settled more comfortably watching as he gingerly tested the strength of the order.

     “Go on,” she continued eyes lidded as he stared at her body hungrily.

     Giving head is a mostly selfless act. Well…it has its motivations to be sure, in terms of guaranteeing a return offer, but in that moment where one is on their knees with their head bracketed by thighs ensuring the recipients pleasure, it’s quite selfless. For Michael it was always about pleasing her, he got off on her coming from his mouth; it was more out of adoration than any power-trip she realised.

     In their current circumstance however he was not being entirely selfless, he was greedy as every lick and touch she felt pleasure from he felt the reverberations of. He dove between her legs mouthing at her clit with a purpose. She let her head fall back on their pillows as he experimentally stroked her folds. She directed him a little and each order that dropped from her lips he immediately obeyed. She rolled against his mouth with joy trying not to overload the connection with what she was experiencing.

     Gently, faster, slow, up a bit, again, there…Yes! There!

     Her whole body sang and she arched against him with an ecstatic moan. He groaned into her sex as she did and she tugged him up to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue and sheathing him inside her with delight. “Don’t move,” she panted and he halted where he lay on top of her, achingly hard inside her and flushed all along his pale body from exertion and sensation. She felt around where they were joined and thumbed her clit slowly watching as his eyes glazed and he shook, mouthing a prayer.

     “Ok,” Lindsay whispered, releasing him from the previous order’s restrictions. The response was instantaneous. Michael kissed her deeply as his hips snapped into her. As her own pleasure fed back into him he dropped his forehead to touch hers, the mark of where she’d kissed him throbbing. The glowing build of orgasm dripped across the link and as Lindsay felt the first waves spread through her body she felt Michael tremble. She leaned back to look at him He looked a wreck, pale skin flushed to the extreme, mouth open mouthed half way through her name and the tension in every inch of his being of obeying her order.

     She wrapped her legs around his thrusting hips, moaning into his ear as the orgasm ripped through her, knowing it must be agony for him to feel the echoing of it. He shook as she let ecstasy roll through her and in an act of glorious mercy she gasped, “come for me.”

     Never had an order been followed so enthusiastically.

     In the come down, after she’d severed the link and was rubbing the base of his neck to ease what stress lingered in those muscles he said very slowly, “I’d…we could do that again sometime but like…not for a while…I think I’ve pulled like twenty types of muscle in my balls alone.” Lindsay couldn’t help but giggle while she pressed apology kisses into his sweat-dampened curls. Michael insisted he was serious but the grin on his cheeks belied any real truth to the claim. She didn’t need a mind link to know that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fantasy freewood - MAD KING CUZ I LOVE DAT SHIZ YO Gavin is a very childish and troublemaking servant, Ryan has to do stuff bout it IDFC IF FLUFF OR SMUT BUT PLZ ILY - princessvav

            “You were pulling a face behind the back of the Lord Aias at a celebration for his daughter’s wedding,” Ryan said slowly as Gavin tidied his quarters.  _Tidied_  was stretching it, he was lifting Ryan’s books and setting them down again as his interest in them waned. He was still in his servant’s tunic, unusual for this time after festivities and Ryan still in his Jarl’s robes, the dark forest green velvet heavy and warm on his shoulders. “Half the courts could see you and when you noticed you went red and then did it again.” Gavin turned to face him leaning against his writing desk with hooded eyes and his fingers twitching as they traced a seam in the wood.

            “Then…” Ryan went on curious as how Gavin could be so calm after flouting court expectations, “you saw fit to pour that flagon of sour mulled wine all down his side; he had to spend the rest of the evening damp and stinking of rotten grapes.” He saw the corner of Gavin’s sinful mouth twitched and felt a flare of anger which spilled into his voice as he near-shouted “do you think that because you have my affections and my bed that you can get away with bringing my house into disregard?”

            Gavin’s eyes widened but he didn’t look away, meeting Ryan’s blazing blue gaze evenly. “Ryan…” he began, and then stopped as Ryan took a step towards him. This made Ryan angrier although he loathed himself for it,

            “I am Jarl Haywood and you will address me so!” He thundered clenching a fist suddenly.

            “He called you mad” Gavin snapped eyes alight in the blazing of the hearth and the anger he felt. Ryan halted, his heart hammering and mind tempered. Gavin went on, “I overheard him when he was talking to his daughter, she made some comment as to your handsome nature which both endeared her to me and made me dislike her at the same time and her father, _the Lord Aias,_ saw fit to regale her in a story of how you ought to be the  _mad Jarl_ of the North.” Gavin’s usually pleasant face twisted into a venomous expression. Ryan felt his breath leave him. “He went on and on…that you were barely worth his fealty, that you would never take a bride because you killed whomever you lay with, a heinous lie…” Gavin laughed bitterly, “that I am living proof of.”

            He paused as he breathed heavily eyes wild and searching Ryan’s face for anything. “…my lord,” he added all sarcasm gone from his voice, bowing his head the epitome of respect he gave Ryan if they ever conversed outside of his chambers.

            “…you” Ryan started his anger dissipated and then stopped. His hands loosened to hang by his side, fingertips lightly touching the thick plush cloth of his kilt. Gavin cocked his head ever so slightly his lips pursed and he walked forward, eyes suddenly plunged to dark as he turned his back on the fire.

            “I would have killed him,” he said as drew up against Ryan, “if he did not hold the Eastern lands.” He reached out to take one of Ryan’s limp hands and pressed it to his neck, holding the fingers above his pulse point so Ryan could feel the steady thrum of his heart. Ryan’s thumb fell to the hollow of his throat, resting on the vibrations of Gavin’s words. “I am just a servant outside of this room, I have no power or leverage with which to rectify his slight against your good name, but I can make sure his saddle is badly buckled so he rides uncomfortably, that his food is over-seasoned so he has to drink more wine that tastes like piss…” Gavin halted as Ryan’s fingers flexed on his throat, his thumb stroking gently.

            “We both have reputations to uphold,” Gavin murmured, he was close enough that his breath and words ghosted over Ryan with equal strength. “I will use mine to save yours from being sullied anyway I can, my Lord and ma-“

            Ryan cut him off with a kiss, pulling him in and holding him hard against him. Gavin greedily pressed close, hands flying to Ryan’s face to hold him closer, then fiddling to push the cloak off of his shoulders. It fell to the ground in a single motion, the golden clasp hitting the flagstones and making Ryan jump. They broke the kiss so Gavin could yank his tunic off over his head and immediately pressed himself against Ryan’s bare chest the moment he was free. Ryan’s hands couldn’t help but explore Gavin’s back, stroking his sides and holding him fast.

            Gavin’s hands made short work of his britches, pushing them down so he could thrust against Ryan. He groaned as Ryan snaked a hand down to undo the buckle of his kilt, tongue tasting the inside of Gavin’s mouth, catching his pleasure as it left him. The kilt cast aside Ryan dropped his hands to Gavin’s hips, thrusting against him with intent. The delicious knock and slide of their erections was aided as Gavin wrapped a hand around them both, the other holding onto Ryan’s arm.  

            Suddenly he shivered and they were both aware of how they stood naked on what had turned out to be one of the coldest nights of the year. Ryan turned to the bed but Gavin stopped him instead pulling him down to the mound of furs that covered the floor in front of the fire. Gavin breathed as Ryan stared at him on the furs, “my lord…” he said reaching up a hand to stroke at the muscles honed from years of fighting.

            “You don’t have to call me that,” Ryan replied slowly taking in the sight of Gavin arched before him, his tan skin honeyed and even more tempting by the firelight. Gavin’s eyes, that ever shifting green, hazel were golden and his hair wild, his lips kiss-reddened and wet. Ryan dropped his eyes to where Gavin’s other hand was teasing himself open. A dark flush worked its way up Gavin’s body, pooling on his cheeks as he worked himself open under Ryan’s lustful gaze. He reached to the desk where he knew some erroneously named massage oil was kept; it was very rarely used for that purpose. Slicking himself and his hand he resettled between Gavin’s spread legs. “…I don’t care what they call me,” He said pressing his slicked thumb to Gavin’s hole, just to stroke and tease alongside Gavin’s long fingers. “It affects the citadel but not me personally, I only care,” he slid his thumb in eliciting a moan and shudder from Gavin that he felt in his core. “What you call me,”

            “Please,” Gavin gasped as Ryan pumped his thumb in and out. Ryan withdrew to lean in for a kiss which Gavin returned desperately,

            “And in here, I am never ‘my lord.’” Ryan said as he thrust into Gavin’s slickened body. Gavin groaned, head falling back on the pelts. He gave a great sigh as Ryan continued to push until he’d filled him to the hilt. “I want you to remember it.” He stroked Gavin’s shaking legs as he began to move slowly, mindful of his lover’s reaction.

            Gavin arched upwards, pulling Ryan flush against him with a shudder, “Warm me up?” he begged his hips canting to push Ryan further into him. He nipped at Ryan’s lips as Ryan pushed him back into the furs with a low grown.

            Sweat poured off them as they fucked, Gavin gasping below Ryan as their hips moved and their bodies warmed from comfort to inferno. The fire sent dancing shadows as logs crackled and popped, the red glow of the embers matching the marks that Ryan made into Gavin’s neck as he thrust.

            Gavin twisted and they moved so Ryan was behind him, on hand holding his legs obscenely wide open and Gavin facing the fire. “Tell me if I’ve warmed you up too well,” he groaned into Gavin’s ear as he began to roll his hips again. Gavin panted an incredulous laugh that turned into a broken ragged moan of Ryan’s name.

            He was like liquid fire in Ryan’s arms, his body damp with exertion and forever matching Ryan’s movement, lithe and sinuous in his lusty movements. He came with a spasm and a crying of Ryan’s name that could’ve woken the dead if their chambers weren’t fair away from anywhere blood had been spilled. Ryan followed soon after, words of love muttered into the sweat-wet juncture of Gavin’s neck and shoulder.

            Pulling out he moved back so Gavin could face him and they clung to one another in front of fire. Gavin’s fire warmed front was searing against his own torso and he stroked an apology into his tender flesh, losing himself in their kiss and aftermath for a moment. “Bed?” he asked tiredly as Gavin sagged against him.

            “Yes please Ryan,” Gavin managed his voice exhausted. It was only the second time that day Gavin had used his first name and this time Ryan felt nothing but love for it.

            “I’ll deal with Aias tomorrow,” he yawned as they drowsily settled into his bed. Gavin hummed, pressing his hand to Ryan’s heart in gratitude, eyes threatening to fall closed at any second. Ryan smiled at the sight, drinking it in with happiness. Drawing Gavin to him they wrapped themselves up in bed covers and each other and fell blissfully into sleep.


	6. Take a chance on me (Odds are that we will probably be, alright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drabble prompt: Gavin and Ryan are teachers who have arguments about the probability of coin tossing in the teachers lounge, much to the dismay of the other teachers.

“All I’m saying is that if you have three coins…” Gavin’s words immediately elicited a groan from his colleagues most notably from Geoff who picked up the copy of The Great Gatsby he’d been skimming for his next lesson and marched out of the room with a murmured “Jesus christ.” Ryan considered following him but found the retort to Gavin’s favourite Ryan-button-pusher was already halfway past his lips.

     “You’re wrong” he replied, bidding a silent goodbye to his peaceful morning break. The potential effectiveness of his tea to ready him for teaching children about the french revolution was diminishing in the face of his irritatingly attractive co-worker and his interesting but highly tangential topics of conversation.

     Gavin lit up with a childish glee that befits a teenager, not one of the school’s most effective teachers, and started extrapolating on his point. Extrapolation with them on this topic was just repeating their previously made points back at each other until one of them laughed and made the other a coffee in apology. It happened in a fairly even trade off.

     Across the room Mr Pattillo heaved a great sigh and replaced the “11 days without coin mention” from the dry-erase announcement board with a 0. Michael passed Ray a dollar and three other members of staff looked to the door Geoff had stormed through clearly considering following suit.

     “You’re both wrong!” Mr Sorola shouted from behind his laptop screen, “and you’re both right.” The elevated murmurings of the rest of the teachers echoed how tired everyone was of this particular issue.

     “Ok ok new query,” Gavin conceded perching on the chair nearest Ryan. He swallowed. “What is the probability of you going to dinner with me this weekend?”

     The room, along with Gavin, appeared to hold it’s breath as the proposition settled in Ryan’s mind. Barbara put a hand over her mouth to hide her grin and Ray grumpily gave Michael his dollar back.

     “I mean…” Ryan began, avoiding the piercing gaze of everyone but a now very nervous looking Gavin, “you’ve left a few variables unknown but I’d say you’re standing at a solid 85% probability.” Gavin snorted and smiled, “it’ll be higher once you tell me where we’re going.”

     “Alright then.” Gavin laughed. They smiled at each other a little self-consciously, the room still rather hung in the moment.

     It broke as the first bell rang and Geoff slinked back into the room busying himself at the announcement board. He threw the marker at Gavin with a sing song “called it” as he walked out again to terrorise fourteen year olds with metaphors and exasperation.

     “Days without coin mention” was now “Days/hours until they bone”

     As Gavin spluttered and Ryan laughed he could see Michael and Ray shaking hands on a bet of that weekend (Michael) and in the car on the way home today (Ray). He looked at Gavin who was recovering from his outburst, bright eyed, flushed and brilliant. He elected not to tell them which way he was leaning on that front. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freewood sick day fic please? Sorry to bother- I know you're busy. If its too much trouble ignore this. Love you hun

“You know I’m fairly sure a blowjob cures all ills” Ryan croaked grumpily as Gavin plumped up a pillow behind him.

 “And your medical degree is where?” Gavin asked pointedly. He was being sensible. Ryan had mixed feelings on sensible Gavin. He was useful for discussions about bills and making plans but utterly hopeless when it came to anything fun or even slightly unsafe. Like say...sucking off your boyfriend when he’s got the flu because it might bring him some joy in his current horrible existence.

 Ryan fell back against his freshly plumped pillows, muttering about who heard of catching a cold from a dick I mean honestly, and did the best stink-eye he could in full knowledge that it didn’t hold the same weight when his eyes were this blood shot. By comparison Gavin looked the picture of health although in reality he was drawn with worry and lack of sleep making sure Ryan was alright.

 He coughed pitifully. Gavin smiled at him tiredly from the doorway; the newly classified edge of the quarantine zone. Beyond that threshold was health and freedom and probably medically sanctioned blowjobs and Ryan was itching to get over it.

 “You know what,” Gavin said slowly, “you’ve never been more attractive than you are right now.”

 On cue Ryan sneezed and groaned as scrambled for Kleenex. Gavin somehow managed to sound gleeful and sympathetic as he continued putting a fresh box on the bedside table and scooping up empty glasses of honey and lemon. “It’s so liberating because you’re so effortlessly hot all the time – it’s nice you get as crap as the rest of us mortals when you’re poorly.”

 Ryan aimed a handful of Kleenex at him and Gavin smirked as they barely cleared the bed before dropping to the floor. He groaned again, throat scratchy and sore and slumped back. He felt disgusting and slow and utterly useless. A hand pushed his sweat dampened hair and he re-focused his eyes to Gavin looking at him fondly.

 “Tea?” he asked quietly and Ryan nodded, more than a little pathetically. “Ok well I’m going to leave this here.” He put Ryan’s phone on the pillow next to him, “and you can text me instead of shouting for me for anything you need or want yeah?”

 Ryan grinned blearily at him and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 Gavin shook his head smiling and made his way to the quarantine door before continuing. “I will accept a list of things you want to do to me or me to do to you once you’re back at 37C but not before.” With that he vanished to complete the traditional British response of tea making.

 “You’re the worst sexy nurse ever!” Ryan called after him. He could faintly hear Gavin laughing his spluttering outburst laugh in the kitchen amidst the clinking of cups and would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit better for it.


End file.
